


Bruises and Breaks

by bar2d2s



Category: The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, like actual physical injuries are sustained
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 05:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11178096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bar2d2s/pseuds/bar2d2s
Summary: When a robbery goes pear-shaped, all those YouTube videos Axel's watched out of horrified curiosity suddenly seem like less of a waste of time.





	Bruises and Breaks

“So, I’ve got one for you guys.”

It was supposed to have been a simple bank job. No hostages, no theatrics, no need to bring in the police. Evan would just open a portal on the inside of the vault door, they’d waltz in, steal everything, waltz back out. Be back home in time for Futurama reruns. But someone had tripped a silent alarm, and then the entire Teen Titans burst through the door. Wonder Girl had dragged him out of the air with her zappy lasso thing, got him right around the left ankle. His left airwalker was shot to shit, and his ankle was rolled at the very least, possibly sprained.

“So, we’re the toughest guys in the cities, and some tourists come in and wipe the floor with us? What’s up with that?”

Mark groaned as he flopped down on the busted old couch, cradling his wrist to his chest. Cyborg had nearly put him through a wall, and there had been a pretty telling snapping noise.

“Not now, Axel.” Len all but snarled as he stalked to his room, his teeth gritted in what could only be agony. Apparently, no one had told Superboy that Captain Cold was an old person. Len was lucky his ribs were just broken, and not splintered.

Evan and Mick had gotten off relatively light. For one thing, apparently Mick and the Kryptonian Kid went way back, and the big lug seemed reluctant to actually try and hit him. Evan just hid out in the mirror dimension. Coward. No, that wasn’t fair. Evan probably saved all of their skins by hanging back once the Titans had shown up. It took him a few minutes to get a portal to stick, but once he had, they were splitsville.

Those few minutes hadn’t been particularly beneficial to Owen, though.

Owen was in rough shape. Between Kid Flash, who seemed to want to get a punch in on _everybody_  and Robin, who was chasing the newest Rogue through the bank like he had a grudge, Owen had managed to land himself a twisted ankle, at least three bruised ribs, two broken fingers, a broken nose, both eyes blackened, and what was probably a missing molar, from the way his jaw was swelling.

It was a testament to his ridiculous crush that Axel still thought he looked good. Like a sad, ugly puppy that you picked out at the pound because you felt so sorry for it.

Mick, unharmed as he was, bustled off to try and convince Len to lay down and let him set his ribs. On the couch, Evan was already tending to Mark’s wrist. They’d collectively dumped Owen in his room as soon as they’d gotten through the portal, so Axel limped his way to the bathroom, to try and scrounge up what he could. Kicking off his shoes relieved some of the pressure on his ankle almost immediately, so he just left them where they sat by the toilet. Hopefully, Len wouldn’t give him hell about it later.

Though he’d opened the door as quietly as he could, Owen still turned in his direction when he shambled in. His ankle probably wasn’t sprained, if he still had this much mobility, but he wasn’t really doing himself any favors walking around.

“Ey.” Owen croaked, a bit of bloody drool dripping down his cheek. Axel winced, but kept moving forwards. “‘Ow’d you geh off so lucky?”

Owen had managed to snag himself a pretty big mattress fairly quickly upon moving in, which was lucky. He could spread out and be comfortable, while still giving Axel room to work. He decided to start at the top.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to take off anything you don’t wanna get stained with blood, because I’m really bad at this and I can’t make you any promises I’ll get everything right the first time.” He was getting better at setting bones, if only because Mark could dislocate something trying to open a beer, but splints were fairly new territory. Owen sat up a bit, struggling to remove his jacket before turning sad eyes on him. Axel helped him out of his jacket, then unwrapped his scarf for good measure. The white t-shirt beneath his jacket was clean for a second, before drips of blood from his nose and mouth hit it. “We’re gonna start with your nose. Sorry.”

He’d watched a video on how to set broken noses once, while going down the laundry list of things he should probably learn to do for himself before becoming a criminal. Fixing bones was right under laundry, but above picking locks. He had Owen blow his nose a couple of times, and tried to look as sympathetic as possible while he got his fingers in position. The tip of his middle finger rested on top of the freckle he’d adopted the other day. Owen’s strangled yell twisted up his insides but luckily, his nose popped back in place much easier than the kid in the video’s had. “Open your mouth for me, yeah?” 

The back left molar was _gone_ , the hole the only evidence it had ever been there. Wasn’t much more he could do than pack the area with gauze after cleaning it out a bit. Owen could only whine softly, not wanting to bite down and possibly take off a chunk of Axel. After he was done with the cleaning, but before he put in the gauze, Axel presented Owen with a couple of pain pills and a bottle of water. The pills and the water were gone in seconds.

“There, we’re halfway done already. So, I got good news and bad news.” Owen made a questioning noise. “The good news is, there’s not much I can do for bruised ribs, so I don’t have to take your shirt. The bad news is, your ribs are gonna be _super_  tender, so I can’t make any of my hilarious jokes without you feeling like you want to die.” The moan of pain that followed a quiet chuckle shouldn’t have felt like it was worth it, but it was. “Now, let’s see that hand.”

He could have gotten worse fingers broken than his ring and pinky. At least now, he could still communicate in the classic way when he was displeased with something. The best Axel could do for now was wrap them with gauze and medical tape, and hope the underground doc the Rogues used was willing to make house calls. “Almost done. Just gotta get your ankle.”

Axel’s own ankle was feeling much better, probably because he’d kept it elevated as he worked. Owen’s on the other hand had swollen up to nearly twice its size, which made getting his boot and sock off painlessly an impossible task. Luckily, those pain meds were really doing their thing because aside from banging his fist on the bed a few times, Owen was mostly quiet as Axel wrapped his foot with the compression bandage.

“Your feet are really big.” He said lamely because at that point, Axel was out of platitudes. “What are you, size eleven or something?”

“Thirteen.” The swelling in his jaw was going down already, if Owen was able to speak properly again. And grin at him, that was a definite grin he had going on.

“Dude, that’s ridiculous. I’m a size five.” Owen’s grin got softer, and he reached down to ruffle Axel’s hair.

“That’s ‘cause you’re a tiny little guy. With baby feet.” ...and Owen was completely high, good to know. He probably should have double checked the dosage. Or read the bottle at all. Prescription pain killers were usually crazy strong. Oh god, what if this was the first step in Owen’s journey through addiction? He’d have to stage an intervention, with letters and- “Hey. Heeeey Axel. Heeeey.” Owen was tugging on his ear, the callused pads of his fingers causing interesting shivers to run down his spine.

“Yeah, buddy?” He was finished wrapping up Owen’s ankle at this point, only lingering so he wouldn’t have to look up and see those _stupidly bright_  green eyes nearly swollen shut from bruises looking down at him.

“I think we should talk. About stuff.” Axel’s head snapped up immediately. And okay, yeah, he thought they needed to talk too, but this was the worst time.

“Owen,” Axel began, scooting down the bed a bit. Owen’s hand had wandered from his ear to the side of his mouth, and it was distracting. “Owen, we’re definitely gonna talk about stuff, but you’re, you’re really fucked up right now, man. You need like a day of sleep and a shower before you even come close to approaching human again.” Owen’s mouth turned down in an exaggerated pout that, honestly, Axel wasn’t sure he could actually control.

“But I wanna talk _now_. I’ve got stuff to say.”

And the scary thing was, he probably did have a lot to say. Hell, Axel had more than a few things he wanted to say. But he wanted Owen to _remember_  those things, which was why he was putting this conversation on hold.

“How about you take a nap first? If you still have things to say when you wake up, we’ll talk.” When Owen woke up, he was sure to be as grouchy as Evan was whenever someone forgot to tape Eastenders for him, especially if he came down off the pain meds while he was out. But he seemed tired, his eyes were already drooping shut. “I’ll put your phone here by you, so you can text me if you need something.” Being a nurse had never been particularly appealing to Axel, because he’d never been good at taking care of other people, but he sort of understood why people did it now. Having someone depend on him was a strange, pleasant feeling.

As he stood to leave, however, his ankle buckled under the pressure, sending him bouncing back to the bed. Axel kept his swearing to a minimum, then tried again. If he didn’t put his full weight on it right away, it would hold. He was almost out of the room when Owen called to him again. “Yeah?”

“Can I tell you something? Real quick?” Axel hopped a little as he turned around, leaning against the doorway. Owen took this as his cue to continue. “I saw you without your mask last week.” As if expecting it to be gone now, Axel’s hand flew up to touch it. Nope, still there. “You’ve got freckles on your nose, too.”

“Yeah, but not as many as you do, man.” Axel laughed, gripping the doorway so he could hop out.

“They’re cute, I like them. _You’re_  cute. And your eyes are so blue.” This was getting dangerously close to...something. Axel quickly hopped out the door, but left it open a crack.

He made it maybe three steps before he hopped directly into Evan. Who was grinning.

“Playin’ nursemaid are we?” He drawled, but the effect was dulled by the fact that he was clearly coming out of Mark’s room. Axel rolled his eyes.

“Aye, we are.” He mocked right back, throwing out his best Scottish accent. For his best, it was still terrible. “Yours was way less hurt than mine, though.”

“Owen know you’re calling him yours, squirt?” Mark called from inside his bedroom, and Axel threw up his hands in exasperation. 

“Oh my _god_!” He yelled, hopping down the hall to his own room. “Are you _sure_  that _I’m_  the teenager?!”

Laughter rang from every corner of the hideout, and in his pocket, his phone vibrated. Owen was texting him already.

 _Thank you pretty_.

Axel smiled down at his phone, expression entirely too soft and open for the hallway. Okay. This wasn’t so bad. Another message popped up.

_Archie and Aggie say hi._

As quickly as he could, Axel shuffled out of the hall and into his room. His phone kept buzzing, and he tried very hard to resist the urge to bash his head into the wall. Instead, he chucked his phone into the clean pile of clothes near the foot of his tiny mattress. He deserved a nap. The messages would still be there when he got up.


End file.
